Second-hand News
by pari106
Summary: Logan wasn't the only one who thought the false "revealation" at the end of "Hello, Goodbye" was big news. Asha's POV, through events following that episode.


Second-Hand News  
by pari106  
  
pari106@hotmail.com ; http://www.geocities.com/pari106/index.html ; Disclaimer: only   
the story is mine; Rating: G; Summary: Logan wasn't the only one who thought "Hello,   
Goodbye" was a big news day. Asha's POV, following the events of episodes after that.   
  
  
  
"This relationship stuff is new to her…to both of them."  
  
I feel sympathy for her – Max. And, of course, for Logan. I always do that – fool myself   
into believing that I have the luxury of being sympathetic; understanding. Because I'm   
just an outsider, looking into their warped, little world. Never mind how much I   
sometimes wish that things were different.  
  
"Both?" Logan asks, carefully.  
  
There are times that he's acted strange, these last few days. And he's doing it again. I   
don't know why, but I answer his question and try not to think about it.   
  
You're just an outsider, Asha…remember?  
  
Who can't be jealous at Max or angry at Alec or hurt whenever Logan pushes me away   
or shuts me out.  
  
"Max and Alec," I explain.  
  
The silence that follows is awful because I sense something awful behind it.  
  
"Oh, right…" Logan says, finally. "I forgot."  
  
There's such coldness in his voice, that Logan's words surprise me at the same time as   
they confuse me.  
  
"Forgot what?"  
  
He turns, poker-faced… Or at least you could call it that, if we were playing a *really*   
*lousy* hand of poker.  
  
"About Max and Alec," he replies, in what he thinks is a neutral, fairly conversational   
tone. As if he could ever forget one single detail about Max, even for a moment.  
  
Logan sees the blank expression on my face and continues.  
  
"They're together."  
  
He thinks I knew. He thinks that's why I mentioned them together, but that isn't what I   
meant. He thinks I knew and that's why he looks so hurt right now, so bitter; why he's   
trying to play it off. And failing miserably.  
  
The funny thing is… I had no idea. And Logan thinks I'm sitting here not knowing what   
to say… Well, I am. But not because I worry how he might feel, because of how *I*   
feel.  
  
Max and Alec, huh? So all that crap about getting caught in the cross-fire, et cetera, et   
cetera, et cetera…was just that? It shouldn't be news to me. But it is news to me.   
Second-hand news…but not the first I've ever received. And not the last.  
  
  
  
  
  
  
"…Towers around midnight last night, by a small group of unidentified men. Rumors   
have circulated that the men were, in fact, government officials of some sort, following a   
lead, but local authorities will not verify this claim. Nor will they determine whether or   
not Mr. Cale is facing any formal charges for which officials may have been attempting   
to arrest him, and the crime scene is currently off-limits to anyone other than investigative   
authorities therefore…"  
  
  
  
  
I don't know what I feel, as I assimilate the news.   
  
  
  
  
It seems so surreal. I don't want to believe it. But maybe the surreality isn't *why* I   
don't want to believe it…  
  
Nonetheless, there's proof there, right in front of me. Proof in the bullet holes in Logan's   
floor, his walls…in everything, basically. Whoever hit him, hit him hard and never let   
up. There's proof there, but I can't accept it. There's no blood… If Logan were dead   
there would be blood, wouldn't there? Unless they'd taken him away.   
"They"…whoever they are. It could be anyone.  
  
But Eyes Only would have told us if Logan were killed or captured, wouldn't he? His   
most trusted operative, his friend… Eyes Only would have broadcast it.  
  
Unless they got to him, too. He did leave in the middle of a broadcast last night,   
sounding hurried, threatened.   
  
Unless Logan was Eyes Only.  
  
I don't want to believe that either. And not because it's so surreal. Because it isn't, and   
I've never considered the possibility before.  
  
Yet if Logan were alive, he'd tell me, wouldn't he? He'd call. He'd give me some sort   
of sign, some sort of "heads up" to let me know he's okay; to not worry. I always do this   
– fool myself into believing that he would. The knowledge that I'm wrong is both a   
comfort and not.  
  
  
  
  
  
  
"…to a head when authorities apparently opened fire on the transgenics, *and* their   
hostages, as they attempted to leave the building for the transportation that had been   
provided. One women was hit; there's been no word on whether or not the woman was,   
in fact, transgenic or human, nor has there been any word on her condition. Also, no   
reports as to whether or not any officers were hit when a man…presumably transgenic   
himself…returned fire, covering the transgenics as they retreated back into the building   
with the hostages. As you can see in this footage, the man jumped over a police   
barricade, and onto a car with enough force to crush its roof, then hurled himself between   
the gunfire and the transgenics, at whom the police had been…"  
  
  
  
  
You know what I feel now, Logan?  
  
  
  
It isn't comfort or discomfort, jealousy or sympathy, understanding or anger. It isn't   
betrayal or hurt.  
  
I feel relief. Amidst everything falling apart, I am relieved. Because, yeah, I was the last   
to get the news, just like always. And, yeah, it didn't involve me, like always. Even if it   
involved people I care about, someone I loved, someone I'd been foolish enough to   
believe might actually be interested in me. And someone I've been there for, because   
she's such a big part of your life and the lives of just about everyone else I know.  
  
I am relieved… Because, for once, I know what this news means and I won't deny it. I   
know what I'm going to do about it. And I'm not going to fool myself into believing   
otherwise.  
  
Even if I know exactly what I'm going to do is exactly what I've always done.  
  
Be there. For Logan, for Alec, and for Max. For all of them.   
  
Even if I have to be there on the outside, looking in. Or right there in the middle of it all,   
feeling left out.   
  
Like always. 


End file.
